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  As the messages continued to arrive, Cordelia politely replied, while she accessed the list of approved shadow suppliers. She broadcast a message to those companies requesting another eight thousand units.

  Needless to say, Cordelia’s message of an extensive additional order was happily received.

  The city-ship sailed to an optimal position for delivery of the shadows from the various manufacturers. Then Cordelia, Patrice, Olawale, and Ophelia boarded a traveler and headed inward.

  “Is Earth our destination?” Ophelia asked hopefully. She sat beside Patrice, and the women faced Cordelia and Olawale.

  “There will be time for a visit to Earth,” Cordelia replied, “but President Fowler is on Mars, and she’ll be there for an extended visit.”

  When the traveler reached Mars orbit, Patrice requested landing instructions to facilitate a meeting with the president.

  The pilot was directed toward a landing pad. Twin doors, which constituted the pad, slid apart, and the traveler dropped into an underground bay.

  “The Mars domes are primarily occupied by retail businesses and hydroponic gardens,” Patrice explained. “Most everything else is belowground. The domes are too expensive and exposed to construct enough of them to house the light manufacturing industries and the residences.”

  Ophelia glanced nervously at Patrice. She said, “After being raised on Pyre and enjoying the expansiveness of the Freedom, I’m not sure how I’ll handle narrow and dim tunnels.”

  Patrice laughed gently. “That was Mars in the early days of colonization. It’s not that way anymore.”

  To Ophelia’s relief, Patrice was right. The corridors were bright and spacious. Every hundred meters, the corridors intersected to form a small rotunda.

  Each rotunda was decorated in a unique motif, including the appropriate landscape murals and plantings. The intersections helped residents understand their locations better than the alphanumeric markings on the corridor walls. Although, the signage was an assistance.

  Mars was a series of cities connected by light underground transport. Some cities were dedicated to residences, retail, and light industry. Other cities hosted heavy industry, which often pushed manufacturing buildings above the surface.

  Corporations that had surface constructions were required to provide class-A radiation protection for any portion of the buildings above the surface or within ten meters of it. Likewise, emergency evacuation procedures were strictly regulated and monitored by Mars security services. Multiple infraction warnings from security for code violations resulted in the revocation of the business’s license to operate on Mars.

  Under United Earth, there had been few inspections and many deaths, some slow and some swift. Today, the Sol Enclave took enforcement seriously by placing employee welfare above the desires of companies for profit.

  It’s not that Mars industries didn’t make handsome dividend payments to their shareholders. They just weren’t as generous as when the companies formerly had incinerated employee bodies on a weekly basis.

  Cordelia and her companions were escorted to rooms, and the SADE connected with Nikki Fowler’s executive assistant.

  Portia regarded her comm unit. The caller was unidentified. Then again, SADEs had returned to the system. When she accepted the call, she ventured, “Hello?”

  the SADE sent.

  “Rear Admiral, good to hear from you,” Portia replied. “We were informed that you entered the system. Where are you now?”

  Cordelia replied.

  “If I had your capabilities, Admiral, my job would be a lot easier,” Portia affably lamented. “I imagine you want to meet with President Fowler. I’ll speak to her, but I warn you. Her schedule is full for the next several days.”

  Cordelia sent.

  Portia had two thoughts. If SADEs could learn the president’s schedule, which was closely guarded, what else was open to them? The second thought was that the Omnian concept of business certainly deserved a place at the president’s table.

  “Admiral, let me clear your request with the president,” Portia replied. “How can I reach you?”

  Cordelia said.

  Nikki had a short break in her itinerary, which gave her a brief opportunity to get updates from Portia.

  “Who’s here?” Nikki asked. With her mind on the conference, she’d been listening to her assistant with half an ear.

  “Rear Admiral Cordelia,” Portia repeated.

  “By herself?” Nikki asked.

  “No, bay services reported Olawale Wombo, Patrice Morris, and Ophelia Tuttle are with her,” Portia said.

  Nikki shook her head. “Start from the top, Portia. What do you know?”

  “The Freedom is stationary to receive the shadow order that was placed a couple of days ago,” Portia explained. “A single traveler arrived about an hour ago. Only the four principals I mentioned disembarked.”

  “Hmm,” Nikki murmured, thinking through the implications. “Cordelia will know my schedule is full. Did she say what she wanted?”

  “Seats for four at your dinner tonight with the company executives,” Portia replied.

  Nikki grinned. “Excellent,” she enthused. “Set it up.” Then she spotted the head of the Mars dome services, excused herself, and made straight for the man.

  After the Omnians stowed their gear, Patrice, who recognized that Ophelia hungered for more open spaces, led the group to a dome. It bore great similarities to the Freedom’s grand park. Green plantings decorated the center and were a source of oxygen for the dome. Shops spread out in rings and tiers toward the periphery.

  While the domes filtered Sol’s harsh radiation during the day, warnings clearly stated that exposure should be monitored as expressed by the ubiquitous apps on everyone’s comm sleeves.

  “What about us?” Ophelia asked, with concern and pointing at one of the warnings.

  “I’m your exposure monitor,” Cordelia replied with a smile. “We won’t be here long enough for it to matter.”

  Ophelia walked among the flowering shrubs and stood there. The others hung back and let her decompress. She stood for nearly a quarter hour before her shoulders relaxed. Then she turned to the group, smiled, and said, “I’m good now.”

  Cordelia and the others perused the shops. Patrice used her Sol credits to buy the small mementos Ophelia selected.

  In an exclusive shop that sold carvings in rare minerals, Cordelia spotted something she desired for Alex and Renée. She transferred credits from the Sol licensing fee account to pay for the carving. Then she registered a transfer from her personal account aboard the Freedom to Omnia Ships.

  As the hour of the dinner approached, Cordelia led the group below. They accessed the light transport network to travel to a nearby dome.

  The best restaurants and clubs paid premium lease prices to occupy a dome’s outer edge. The higher the tier, the more expensive the lease. Patrons in these places of business were treated to views of the Mars surfaces. At night, they enjoyed vivid displays of the stars through the planet’s weak atmosphere.

  Cordelia accessed a newly renovated lift, which was now powered by Omnian grav technology. It rose to the topmost tier.

  “Now this is what I call exclusivity,” Patrice remarked, as they entered a sumptuous foyer. “I hope we’re not expected to pay. This place might set me back a month’s pay.”

  “I wonder if they’ll accept Pyrean coin,” Ophelia remarked. She was grinning at the idea.

  “We’re the president’s guests,” Cordelia reminded everyone.

  “Admiral Cordelia and friends,” the host greeted. “We’ve been expecting you. Right this way, please.”

  Nikki
warmly hugged Patrice and shook hands with the others. Then she introduced the visitors to the room full of industry leaders. Every one of them was excited to meet the president’s surprise guests.

  The Earthers listened carefully to the events in alliance space, especially the growing contests against the Colony.

  At one point, the CEO of a mining company remarked, “One good thing for Sol, the insectoids don’t have starships.” His comment generated a great deal of head nodding and some quiet laughter.

  “For now, they don’t,” Olawale remarked, which canceled the Earthers’ moment of celebration.

  During dinner, Earthers brought up a wide range of topics and waited for the visitors to broach the subject that had brought them to Sol.

  Over time, Nikki had developed her political skills. Her experience with the Omnians told her that Cordelia and her companions represented an opportunity for Sol, and she patiently waited for the unveiling.

  The meal ended, and after-dinner cordials and caf were served.

  Olawale delicately cleared his throat, and eyes turned his way. “Anyone interested in building ships?” he asked.

  “I thought you came here to order shadows,” the CEO of a Mars orbital station said.

  “That too,” Olawale replied.

  “Tridents?” inquired an owner of an orbital platform that previously constructed Sol Enclave naval warships.

  “No, a new type of starship,” Cordelia replied.

  Waitstaff wheeled in Cordelia’s portable holo-vid on a small cart. She rose, positioned it near Nikki, and activated it.

  “At this time, alliance space requires starships capable of passenger and cargo transport,” Cordelia continued.

  “We already have those,” the ship builder retorted.

  Cordelia ignored the comment and displayed the new design.

  “A shell-hulled ship,” the ship builder said in amazement. “My apologies, Admiral.”

  “Alliance space and the surrounding stars have been inundated by the Colony,” Ophelia explained. “A station will be constructed at Pyre to host a peacekeeping force. The force will use these starships as transports for troops and shadows. In addition, the ships will carry eight travelers.”

  “If these ships are used to support the elimination of the Colony, what will be their disposition when the job is done?” an executive asked.

  Cordelia changed the display to the star map of alliance space. Quickly, she introduced the color coding of the systems.

  Like the Tsargit assembly, the table audience was stunned.

  “We take it the Colony problem won’t be finished anytime soon,” Nikki commented quietly.

  “The length of time depends on resources,” Olawale replied. “That means ships, crews, troops, shadows, a station, staff, and funds. The more we have, the quicker the problem is eliminated.”

  “You’re not expecting Sol to provide these resources, are you?” the orbital station CEO asked.

  “No single world has the wherewithal to resolve the Colony’s infestation,” Patrice replied. “Alex and Renée have gone to the Tsargit, the alliance governing body, to convince the races to support the resistance.”

  “Do you think they will?” the CEO asked.

  “Are you really questioning Alex and Renée’s persuasiveness?” Nikki inquired, raising an eyebrow.

  “Allow me to join the growing list of those offering apologies, Madam President and Admiral,” the CEO said.

  “How many of these new ships are you requesting?” the ship builder asked.

  “After the purchase of eight thousand shadows, our present licensing fund with the Sol Enclave can afford four,” Cordelia replied.

  “Are the systems similar to Trident technology?” the builder asked.

  “Yes,” Cordelia replied.

  “After we construct the four for you, can we build these for ourselves?” Nikki asked.

  “Yes. However, a licensing fee will apply,” Cordelia replied.

  “The same as the Trident?” the builder asked hopefully.

  The holo-vid changed to place three ships in parallel — the transport, the Trident, and the traveler. The difference in size from one to the other was dramatic.

  “Licensing fees are based on hull length,” Cordelia reminded the audience.

  The other Earthers laughed gently at the three ship builders, whose faces mirrored their disappointment.

  “Sers,” Olawale said, “think of what these ships will allow you to do in the future. Sol is preparing to engage with a broad area of space occupied by many races, including human colonies. These efficient ships will shorten sailing time for passengers and cargo. Operators will want them.”

  “Did you bring the specifications with you?” a second ship builder asked.

  Cordelia imitated Nikki with a raised eyebrow.

  “Sorry,” the builder said, quickly smothering his snicker. Cordelia’s imitation of Nikki was perfect. “When might we have the specs?”

  “Are you saying that you’re interested in taking the order?” Cordelia asked. When she received three enthusiastic replies from the ship builders, she added, “Sers, the specifications were placed on your companies’ design servers prior to dinner.”

  “Everyone, you’re speaking with a SADE,” Nikki remonstrated. “Please catch up and stop embarrassing me.”

  There was polite laughter at the president’s remarks, but the point was made.

  “Can we assume a fixed price ... no bidding requested?” the third builder inquired.

  “Sers, you’ve the technology, thanks to Olawale Wombo’s generosity,” Cordelia replied. “Your three Mars orbital stations are the only platforms in this system that can accommodate hulls of this length. For these first four ships, we’ve been generous, allowing you the funds to reconfigure your bays.”

  Olawale interjected, saying, “You should be aware that Alex has communicated to President Fowler the impending opportunities for Sol.”

  “Can you be more specific?” an executive asked.

  “Think big,” Olawale replied. “Think extremely big.”

  Nothing but smiles graced the faces of the Earthers, especially that of Nikki. The news almost ensured a second term for her. Wages were on the rise, and travelers were making passenger movement throughout the system expeditiously comfortable.

  After the table was cleared, the Earthers and their guests mingled for a half hour. Then Cordelia and her companions made their excuses and headed for their rooms.

  In the morning, Ophelia got her wish. The group boarded their traveler and sailed for Earth. Sightseeing ensued for many days.

  Cordelia took the opportunity to pursue the search that the SADEs, who had been with Olawale, had instituted. They had uncovered the records of the Honora Belle.

  It was widely known among Earthers that five colony ships had been launched to the stars. Three were now known.

  One of the European-Indian Enclave’s ships reached its destination. Those colonists settled Méridien and created the Confederation.

  The North American Confederation sent two ships. Although neither vessel reached its intended target system, the colonists managed to establish precarious footholds on New Terra and Pyre.

  The third conglomerate, the Russian-Chinese Concord, never completed one of its auspicious colonization efforts.

  That left the destinations and detail of two ships unidentified. They were both launched by the European-Indian Enclave, which included the old European Union, India, Singapore, and Thailand.

  The start of Cordelia’s search for the records of the two undiscovered colony ships was digital in nature. Alex had given her suggestions about where she might find the information that humans sought.

  In the millennium since the colony ships were launched, records had migrated from one technology to the next. With each step, much of the planet’s accumulated history and creative works were left behind.

  Today, most data was maintained on molecular memory, which had dens
ity unthinkable at the time of the colony ships.

  Unfortunately, Cordelia’s search via her links revealed nothing. She left the others to continue their tours of Earth, while she visited museums that specialized in preserving ancient records.

  Some of the museums’ data was stored on material for which no player existed, and some of it was truly ancient — historical books and memoirs inked on paper.

  Directors and their staff took pleasure in a SADE choosing to grace their museums, and they happily brought out the ancient media that might contain the records Cordelia requested.

  Techs were flabbergasted when they realized Cordelia could connect to hard drives or read magnetic tape through her fingers. They supplied her with molecular memory bubbles to transfer the data for them. She did the same with the books she read, perusing the pages as quickly and carefully as she could turn the pages of the ancient texts.

  The shadow deliveries to the Freedom totaled nearly seven thousand when Cordelia discovered the collective writings of a senior engineer, Thomas Verne, who’d headed the New Terra’s design team.

  Verne detailed the efforts of his team to solve the design challenges of the great ship, the largest ever built in Earth’s history. In his writings, he made references to engineers who were at work on similar projects. Apparently, the design teams corresponded regularly to discuss the problems they faced and the solutions they implemented.

  After completely absorbing Verne’s exhaustive writing, Cordelia had accumulated a list of names of the correspondents with whom the writer had communicated. In addition, she had the names of the missing two colony ships, which had been launched by the European-Indian Enclave.

  Cordelia’s search and her companions’ tours ended. Cordelia left word with museum directors to search their records for memoirs or correspondence in the names of the engineers and the colony ships.

  By the time Cordelia and her friends made the city-ship, the SADEs had accepted the delivery of eight thousand thirty-six shadows, which filled the ship’s bays.

  As the Freedom sailed out of the system, Cordelia checked on the initial progress of the three companies that owned and operated the Mars orbital stations. Their communications indicated that they’d divided the contract, which she approved. One platform was overhauling its bays to construct the hulls and install the twin engine systems. When completed, the ships, whose hulls would then be sealed, would be towed to the other two orbital platforms to build out the vessels’ interiors.